If I'd read this back when I thought Brand was a hottie, I'm sure I'd have liked it more. Reading it now, I have to judge it on its own merits. It's funny, but nothing that made me smile, let alone cackle out loud. Brand's jokes are best when he's rattling them out rapid fire with a saucy grin--on paper, there's not as much to them. It doesn't work particularly well as a memoir, either. Brand spends a huge amount of time on his unexceptionable childhood, then a few chapters each recapping his tv shows and talking about how helpful rehab was. Aside from his addiction to drugs and sex, the reader learns pretty much nothing about Brand as a person. And since he's only 34, there isn't yet much to talk about in terms of his career.
It's a fine book, and undoubtedly less ghost-written than most other celebrity memoirs. But it's pretty hollow stuff.